If you are interested in blogging or want to promote your book next year, please contact E. B. Davis at writerswhokill@gmail.com

Our October interviews feature: Kathy Aarons 10/5, Tracy Weber 10/12, Shelley Costa 10/19, and Maggie Toussaint on 10/26.

Saturday Guest Bloggers: Sharon Love Cook 10/1, Leslie Lantry 10/8, and our Saturday Bloggers--10/15 Margaret S. Hamilton, 10/29 Kait Carson. 10/22 will be filled by E. B. Davis.

Congratulations to our writers for the following publications:

Shari Randall's "Pets" will be included in Chesapeake Crimes: Fur, Feathers, and Felonies anthology, which will be published in 2018. In the same anthology "Rasputin," KM Rockwood's short story, will also be published.

Margaret S. Hamilton's short story, "Once a Kappa" was published as a finalist in the Sourthern Writer's Magazine annual short story contest issue.

Linda Rodriquez has two pending book publications. Plotting the Character-Driven Novel will be released by Scapegoat Press on November 29th. Every Family Doubt, the fourth Skeet Bannion mystery, is scheduled for release on June, 13, 2017. Look for E. B. Davis's interview with Linda here in June!

The We've Been Trumped anthology released by Dark House Press on September 28th contains Warren Bull's "The Wall" short story and KM Rockwood's "A Phone Call to the White House." KM writes under the name Pat Anne Sirs for this volume.

Jim Jackson's 4th book in the Seamus McCree series, Doubtful Relations, is now available.


Tuesday, December 14, 2010

Christmas Gifts (Part 2 of 3)

By J. M. Jackson
(Part 2 of 3 -- Here's Part 1

    Doris pulls a package wrapped in reds and greens and yards of tape out of her oversized leather purse and calls her daughter over to her. “Give this to your Aunt Jody.”
    Jessica runs back to the bed and drops it on my chest. It’s about the size of a book, but much softer, which is good because I don’t have the energy to read books anymore. I miss reading books.
    “Aren’t you going to open it?” she asks. “I wrapped it myself.”
    “I’m sorry. I was thinking about something. Why don’t you open it for me?”
    She grabs the package and tears off the paper like Tyrannosaurus Rex ripping into dinner. “I picked them out all by myself,” she says as she holds out canary yellow socks with individually colored toes.
    “Grandpa told me that when you were little you liked socks with toes and I told Mommy that’s what we had to get you.” She cups her mouth to my ear, “Mommy thinks they’re dumb, but I think they’re great.”
    “They’re wonderful, Jessica. Thank you very much. They’re so colorful; I’ll stick my toes out from under the sheets to show them off. Everybody’ll be jealous.”
    “Put them on.”
    I can’t reach my feet, so I look toward her mother, who checks her watch and comes to my rescue.
    “Give them to me; I’ll do it.”
    After placing her purse carefully on the room’s sole chair, she takes the socks from Jessica, moves to the foot of the bed, undoes the bottom covers and slides the socks onto my feet. I smile my thanks. Jessica gapes at the process.
    “Aunt Jody, how come the bottom of your legs are purple? Did you hit them against something?”
    “No dear, they get that way if I stay in the same position for too long. I can’t play around like you and pretend I’m a horse anymore.”
    She whinnies a reply and admires the socks.
    “Do they tickle your toes?”
    “They feel nice and warm. I love them. What a special present they are.” I catch Doris’s eye. “Thank you for putting them on. And thank you for coming and bringing Jessica today.”
    Doris’s smile is tight, forced. “Everyone should have company for Christmas. Your brother decided he had to chauffer your Dad and my parents. My brother and his family are coming over too, so we’ve got nine for dinner. Your Dad said he’ll try to get here when the roads aren’t so icy. He doesn’t drive on--
    “Jessica, get out from under that bed!”
    “Aw, Mom. I was just looking for something.”
    “Well, leave it alone. You’ll get dirty under there. Now put your coat on; we need to go. I have to get back and finish cooking.”
    I try pleading with my eyes, “I know how busy you are, Doris. Can you leave Jessica with me for a few minutes? We enjoy our little chats.”
    She hesitates and I hold my breath, willing her to say yes. “Well, I do need to use the facilities and I want to talk to the nurses about your new socks. I guess she’ll be all right for a few minutes.”
    “We’ll be fine,” I say.
    She picks up her purse and walks from the room, stops, glances back and goes on her way.
    “Jessica, I don’t think your Mom’s going to be long. Quick, get the book.”

Part 3 concludes the story next week
(The story originally appeared in the anthology, Not From Around Here, Are You?)


E. B. Davis said...

There's a weird inverse that happens when a writer reaches a certain level of writing--the words disappear. Action and dialogue step off the page and the reader becomes absorbed in the story. You've reached that level. There's no akwardness, no unnatural stage direction, no stilted dialogue. Thanks for the good read-I'll come back next week for the ending.

James Montgomery Jackson said...

Thanks for your kind comments.

~ Jim

Warren Bull said...

Hmm, I have the feeling that something special is about to happen.

Pauline Alldred said...

This is a beautiful story. Elaine's right, everything flows.